Ein Engel in Teufels Kleidung
by h311agay
Summary: Kurt Wagner feels like he's nothing but a demon while Scott Summers believes Kurt to be the most beautiful of angels, even prettier than Warren. Both struggle with their sexuality, their faith, and their confidence, uncertain of how to pursue a relationship, or if it's even one worth pursuing. Ororo is the tru wingman. The title means "An Angel in Devil's Clothing"
1. I Am the Monster They Accuse me of Being

Nimble fingers turned the pages of the Einheitsübersetzung, with its wearing leather binding and faded rice paper pages. "Am Anfang schuf Gott Himmel und Erde. Und die Erde war wüst und leer, eine Finsternis über das tief war, mit einem göttlichen Wind über das Wasser fegt." Again, blue lips moved to repeat the words, this time without looking down at the time-worn pages. He had read this book, this passage enough times to repeat it without looking, to recite it without prompting, without help. The words of the Einheitsübersetzung had been Kurt Wagner's only source of solace during his time in the Munich Circus. Despite his demonic appearance, despite the scorn people had placed upon over the past sixteen years of his life. Through all of the turmoil and pain and hatred and ridicule and condemnation he had endured, the word of God still touched his heart and made him believe that he had a place where he belonged. He knew, because of his appearance, that he was a sin, unable to enter Heaven without penance to right all that was wrong with him. That is why, upon his horrible visage and body he had carved the symbols of the angels. In hopes that in his death God may see his attempts at purifying himself and grant him acceptance and entrance into the holy afterlife.

Across from the blue-skinned boy sat Scott, watching him from behind red-tinted shades. With them, he could hide where his gaze truly was. Scott watched Kurt's lips move, made a deep violet from how the colours of his glasses and Kurt's skin mixed. He wanted to see the other without them on, but it was a fool's dream... Shivers ran down Scott's spine as the thick accent of Kurt's German filed the air. Despite Kurt's attempts at staying quiet, nobody else in the study was making a sound except for the occasional turning of pages or scratches of pens and pencils on paper. Scott was too distracted by Kurt reading to continue with his studies, instead finding more interest in listening to the foreign words from Kurt's book. He didn't know what it was, but if Kurt was reading aloud from it, that was all that mattered.

"Mein Gott," Kurt breathed after a while, looking up to find Scott staring at him. His heart fluttered and heat rose to his cheeks and pointed ears. He sent a small prayer Heaven-ward, thanking God that blushes did not show up well on his blue and scarred complexion. He knew that Scott was staring right at him; he had felt it and- in all honesty- that is what had pulled him away from reading the word of God. To find the source of who had been staring at him. He wished he had kept reading. After a while, he felt the heat of Scott's stare become to strong to continue to pretend to be reading. Try as he might, he could not keep his focus on the words in front of him, instead, his mind drifted to other topics. To Scott. He stood abruptly, the chair he was in squeaking suddenly and causing heads to pop up from books and curious looks to pierce him. Kitty scowled from her spot in the study. "Could you, like, be any louder?"

"Verzeihung," he breathed, bowing slightly in shame before scurrying out of the study. He wasn't all too sure why he had stood look that; it was almost like he had panicked. But there had been no need and by the name of God what was wrong with him? His heart was hammering and his ears were ringing and he frantically needed to sit down or scream. Before he could teleport to his room or a few miles away from the institute, a firm hand grabbed the wrist of the hand still holding his Bible. His skin bristled and his fur stood on end as he turned to face Scott. Usually, he would feel relief at seeing the other, but right now, it only heightened his sense of panic. Lines crossed Scott's forehead and he was frowning some, eyebrows drawn up in concern. Enough as to peak over his sunglasses some. "Kurt, you alright?"

"Ja, am fine," he hissed, trying to pull his hand away. "Wunderbar. Why?" He knew- to anyone with even just a handful of brain cells- it was painfully obvious that he was indeed not fine. But he didn't quite understand how to convey what he was feeling and with Scott's presence, these feelings and emotions only stirred further and became more complex to decipher.

"Why? Because you just shot out of there like a bat out of hell. That's why. You're jumpy and I can see something's up in your eyes. Talk to me." Scott was concerned, for sure. And maybe it was because Kurt was tugging away from his grip and instead of releasing him he was tightening it because Kurt had never rejected a touch from him before. Something was bothering the little elf and Scott was worried that it was something bad. Had he done something wrong?

"A bat out of...? Wha- no, never mind. An 'expression of speech', I am certain." With Scott's hand become tighter around his wrist, Kurt could almost swear that his heart could be heard down the hallways. "There is just... there is a lot on my mind und I have to sort it out. I do not know how to explain it to you."

"Can you try?" Scott looked around. "Would you like to go somewhere more private and talk? As team leader, I'm supposed to make sure everyone is okay, and I don't just mean on the battle field. I'm not just someone who gives orders out there. I'm your friend, so please talk to me."

Kurt swallowed, and then the smell of sulfur filled the air and a sharp bamf of air filling the void of where the two bodies once stood echoed down the corridors. They were in Kurt's room. Scott dropped his hand from Kurt's wrist and sat down on the edge of the bed whilst Kurt went to his nightstand to replace the Bible into its proper spot. "What is that? The book?"

Kurt glanced at it then back to Scott. "It is a German Catholic Bible. It is called the Einheitsübersetzung."

"Ein... height... zoo... ber... son?" Scott repeated, giving Kurt a sad look as if to apologise for butchering the German pronunciation. "I didn't know you were religious," he said after a moment and it suddenly dawned on him that there was little he knew about Kurt.

"Ja. Back in Munich- at the Circus- a friend of mine's sister brought the Einheitsübersetzung in from a hospital she worked at. Most people there had abandoned any faith they might have held at first. It was a horrible place. Aber, my friend was not there solely by force, more to make money. And his sister would visit often to provide physicals. She brought it in and would read it to us. She left it one day and when she returned, I asked her to teach me to read. Mind you, I was seven or eight at the time. She taught me to read, to spell, to count higher than zehn. I read it und... it was one of the first times I did not feel alone and rejected." He coughed slightly, realising he had said more than he meant to.

"That's... wow. I've never been religious but... The fact that it was something you had to keep hope. I'm glad you found it."

Kurt smiled some, a fang showing. "Ja. I am also glad I found it. I think, without it, that I would not be the person that I am today. Or that I might not even be here. It is strange to think that at one point, I was ready to..." He coughed again, seeing a strange look flash across Scott's face.

"You were going to kill yourself?" His words were soft, gentle, almost scared. Like someone talking to an animal that they didn't want to set off in fear of one or both of them getting hurt. Kurt suddenly realised how horrible his life sounded. And- in all honesty- it was.

"Nein, I mean ja but not because of the circus! No; the circus was not bad. Not until it got out that I was not wearing a Kostüm and it was only because of the new ringleader. He was a horrible man and became angry when I refused to act violent in order to keep people coming in to see me. He sold me after that and that's when... That's when I began to lose my faith. But I took the book with me and read it and recited it and kept it close to my heart. People do not need to believe in God. What matters is that I do and that I obey him and that I trust in Him. He is my God and I am His creation. He has a plan for me and for everyone else and it is up to everyone else to decided whether or not they believe in Him. That is not my call. Do not think I tell you this story, tell you about my faith to try and convert you. God has only ever said to spread and teach His word, not to enforce it upon others. I am not God and I may not judge others if they do not believe in Him. For that is their choice, just as it is mine to believe."

Scott was overwhelmed by Kurt's words. Too often had he been preached to by people with no other reason other than to attempt to convert him. And here Kurt was, alive and breathing after everything he had even been through, still faithful but not chastising Scott for remaining without religion, not trying to get him to convert and practice. Kurt was honestly too god damned pure for this world. Hi heart skittered a bit. "But this isn't what's wrong, is it?"

"It... it leads up to it." Kurt looked out his window before sitting down, his back to Scott. "I have always done my best to follow the word of God. I remained peaceful und kind und always helpful, even when mobs chased me out of towns, even when I went days without eating. Even when the ringleader brought out his whip und blamed me for our diminished ticket sales because nobody wanted to see a freak like me. I remained faithful even when locked up in a box that did not allow me to teleport because of its electrical field around it. Even when I was beaten und battered und bruised, on the brink of death countless times. Und then I came here. I learned to fight und fight I did. I have hurt far more people than people have hurt me since I became an X-men. Und I do not blame any of you. But... I am struggling." He sighed, dropping his head. "I did not want to fight; I do not want to fight. I dislike hurting people, even if they have done me or my friends wrong. I am not God. It is not my place to punish those who I believe deserve it because it is not my place to judge them. It is God's. Und I feel like I am betraying my God by doing what we do. By fighting und deceiving und even killing!" He brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes. "Ich habe das Monster alle werden beschuldigt mich zu sein!"

Scott knew very little German, but he was certain he heard 'monster' in the last bit of Kurt's words. "Hey, now, Kurt. You... You aren't a monster. Not to me, not to the other X-men, or the Professor or... or to God." He didn't know how to comfort the other, especially because the topic was mainly about religion. "If God is the all-loving being people make him out to be, then he should love you regardless of any sins you've made. He... He doesn't think Lucifer is a monster, now does he?" He hoped he got that right.

There was a pause from Kurt, who, from behind his hands, answered. "No... Even though Lucifer tried to turn against God, He still loves him." He straightened his back. "But there is so much more to this, Scott. So much I cannot... " He made a noise of frustration and had the circumstances been different, Scott would have found it highly endearing. "There is something..." Again, the sound angrier this time. "I cannot enter Heaven without penance. Und I have tried und sometimes, to this day, I continue to try. But I cannot do it all und I cannot ask someone for help because they wouldn't understand und I don't... I don't want to go to Hell, Scott. I am scared." His voice grew soft, quiet, and so... so desperate.

And Scott couldn't hide it anymore. He crawled over the rest of the bed, sat beside Kurt, and cupped his face. He felt the other's velvety soft fur beneath his hand, the rigid bumps and swirls and lines of the scars beneath his thumb. And then he felt the softness of the other's lips against his and everything felt right in the world. Kurt's breath was war and wet from tears as he breathed out against the kiss and at first his lips were motionless but then he was responding and everything was right in the world and everything was right, everything was right, and maybe there was a God.

And then Kurt was pulling away so fast that Scott saw white instead of red and a lou filled the room and he was against the window shaking and tears were rolling faster down his face than Scott thought humanly possible. Then he realised that Kurt was crying because of him and he felt horrible and sick and his gut was growing hot with guilt and horror at what he had just done. "Kurt I-"

"Leave me alone."


	2. You Were the one who Damned Me

Only a few days had passed since the kiss in Kurt's bedroom. Every night, Scott had dreamt about it and none of the dreams were pleasant. In one dream, the kiss happened as it had in reality. But afterwards, when Kurt teleported over to his window, he did not tell Scott to leave, but instead he simply cried by the window sill and no matter how hard the older teen tried, he couldn't apologise, couldn't take it back; his tongue tied in his mouth and made him seem anything but remourseful. If he tried to cross the room to comfort Kurt, he found that the short distance between them only grew greater with each painstaking step until Kurt was a dark splotch against a white light, crying and wailing.

In other dreams, Scott went to take a shower after Kurt told him to leave. A shower in attempts to wash away the slew of emotions and guilt that he had stewing inside of him. While showering, he noticed that the water began to fill the room and he would look up to see the source of the water had become Kurt. Above him, Kurt sobbed, his tears falling down onto Scott as he showered. The tears continued to rise, and before long, Scott was trapped under the water. Kurt continued to cry above Scott as he struggled to escape the water, reach the surface. His lungs began to fill with water and burn. He struggled and the last of his air would escape him and black dotted his vision and… He would wake up.

Sometimes the dream would play out the same way up to the kiss. But, instead of Kurt pulling away, they continued to kiss, falling back onto the bed, their tongues intertwining and hands exploring and they kept going until they couldn't breathe and they hat to part, gasping for breath. These dreams were the worst because when Kurt leaned forward to kiss him again, the bed would split open underneath them and fire and brimstone was all Scott could register. He saw Kurt chained and screaming, being dragged further and further into the depths. "You did this to me," came the calm echo of Kurt's voice even though Scott could see him thrash amongst the flames. "I was scared to go to Hell, und I thought you could save me." Scott raced after the blue boy, wanting nothing more than to save him. "But, Scott… You were the one who damned me."

Scott woke up in a sweat, nothing but darkness greeting him due to the band around his eyes. He was grateful for it now in a way he had never been before because it really would have sucked to blow a hole through the manor at this hour. He reached for the edge of the band, twisting the knob to lightening it some so that he could see through it.

" I was scared to go to Hell, und I though you could save me… But, Scott… You were the one who damned me."

Those words echoed with Scott even though Kurt had never truly said them. But it was truly. Kurt had shared all of his fears to Scott, and in Kurt's moment of vulnerability, Scott had committed a horrible sin in the eyes of the Catholic community. He was sure Kurt hated him… Since the incident, neither so much as remained in the same room as one another, excluding the Danger Room.

They skirted around each other and the only form of communication either had with the other was only for official business. Scott was torn up inside, unable to figure out how to make things right. If he could just get Kurt alone, just talk to him and apologise and ask the other to forgive him… But he'd understand if Kurt never forgave him. Homosexuality was a sin in the eyes of the Lord, Scott had been told countless times. By people who both knew and were ignorant to his sexuality. Kurt could never forgive Scott, he knew, but he would beg, plead, bargain whatever remained of his soul just to make sure that Kurt's still made it into Heaven.

The kid was just too pure to be sent to Hell, and his fears were all material based. He was scared that God would see him as a demon and cast him to Hell. He was scared that nothing he would do could repent for whatever sins he believed he did, caused, or embodied. Kurt knew, that if God was real, and even if God was cruel, he'd never do such horrendous things to someone so faithful, so broken, so innocent and so deserving of Heaven.

Scott looked to the clock, sighing heavily when he saw it was only 3:06 in the morning. His stomach choose an inopportune time to growl loudly, prompting him to throw aside his sweat soaked blankets and walk into the chilly hallway air. He made his way to the kitchen, his bare feet slapping off the wooden walkways, the sound changing slightly when he entered the tiled room of the kitchen. He heard humming from by the fridge and he stopped.

Kurt was rummaging through it, a gallon of milk held up by his tail and some lullaby like hum. He turned and stopped when he saw Scott, an emotion almost kinship to fear crossing his face. He turned to put the milk away, obviously intent on no longer eating the cereal he had been preparing, but Scott stepped forward, grabbed his wrist and begged. "Wait, please. Kurt. Let me talk to you." His words were strained with days worth of agonising and analysing and chastising. "I just… I just want to talk to you." He could feel how tense the younger male was under his palm and he loosened his grip, letting his hand fall back down to his side.

Kurt stood up straight before slowly walking over to a chair, sitting down and watching Scott with intense yellow eyes. "You wish to talk? So talk."

Scott swallowed, fiddling with his thumbs before sitting in the chair across from Kurt. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "For what I did the other day. I- I had not right to just… I'm sorry. You were so upset and I let my own feelings slip into the situation and I failed you not only as a team leader but as a friend." The words felt like they were choking Scott and for a moment he panicked that he actually might start choking on them. But once they were out, the lump began to shrink and he found himself able to tentatively look up at the other.

There was hurt in Kurt's eye and Scott panicked that he had said something wrong. "Scott… Es tut mir leid . I did not… I did not mean to hurt you when I told you to leave. I was… I was just taken back and confused. I thought…" He sighed, rubbing at his tired looking eyes. "Perhaps avoiding each other for the past week was not the most wunderbar idea."

Scott nodded in agreement. "I want to talk to you, a real talk. But somewhere more private, if you're okay with that? I don't want someone like Kitty to find her way in on our conversation like she has a habit of doing."

Hesitation flashed through those radiant yellow orbs before Kurt nodded. "Take my hand, mein freund . I know a place we can speak."

And so for the first time in over a week, Scott touched Kurt and everything exploded in a flash of smoke, sulfur, an f!


	3. Foreign

Kurt had taken them to the roof of the Institute. A place he, himself, oftened to get away from the hustle and bustle of the life inside the building. No one had thought to look for him up here and he was only found once, by Storm. And that had been by accident. She promised to keep his spot a secret and continued on her way. Now, he brought Scott up here, the air bitter and chilly in the dead of night. And perhaps it didn't help that the seasons were changing and summer was long gone, the gentle warmth of fall turning to the grey of winter. Kurt sat down, letting his abnormal hand slip from Scott's as he did so, and he gestured to the spot next to him. "You wish to talk, so talk," he said again. Perhaps he was being harsh, but Scott had kissed him without reason and had also put forth the effort to avoiding contact with each other. No coin was one-sided, afterall.

Scott sat, look out at the darkness over the trees and sighed. "I like you, Kurt. And before you say you like me, too, let me explain."

Somehow the older teen had known that Kurt was going to say that. With a half-parted jaw, Kurt clamped it shut, teeth smacking together and clicking inside of his brain.

"For years now, I've struggled with my sexuality. I like girls, for sure, but sometimes, there are boys that I like as well. You're one of them. I like you, Kurt. And maybe I should have been honest with you in your room instead of kissing you, but I've never been good with my words. I make a shitty team captain sometimes because of it." He sighed, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on it. It dawned on Kurt that he could see Scott so much better than the other could see him.

"You are not a bad team captain," Kurt defended. "You are amazing. You always do what needs to be done und you work hard und you're inspiring und you're just… you're wunderbar ." He wanted to put his hand on Scott's back but he refrained, unsure of what this situation called for, what was acceptable, and what was crossing unspoken boundaries.

"Thank you," Scott mumbled half-heartedly. "But what I'm trying to say is… I hide a lot. A lot more than most people think I do. I like you and for a long time, I've… I've wanted to be more than just your friend. But I never knew how to tell you and that moment in your bedroom when I was holding you just felt so right to me but I guess it was wrong and you probably think I'm disgusting and horrible and a monster."

Kurt fell very solemn at Scott's words, his tail wrapping around his right calf and falling still. "Scott, I would never think of you as a monster. Why would I think such schrecklich things about you?"

"Because homosexuality is a sin, isn't it?" Scott's voice had grown so soft, so quiet, so unsure, that Kurt himself couldn't be certain it was really Scott he was talking to on the dark, scratchy roof.

"It isn't my place to judge that, Scott. I have read the Bible, both the English version und the German version. It has never said, straightforward, the homosexuality is a sin, that it is evil. 'Man shall not lie with man as he lieth with women.' It is true that it says that. Und that if man does so, he is worthy of being stoned to death. But it follows with saying that we have no place to judge for we are not God and He is the only one with the power and the right to judge others. 'Let him who has no sin cast the first stone.' I have my sins, you have your sins, Jean und the Professor, Storm, Spyke, Kitty, Rouge, Magneto, Mystic, Toad, Lance, Bobby, und every living being on this planet has sin. There is no one here who equals God, und therefore, there is no one with the right to judge you."

He paused. "Besides, it is debated what the scripture means by man lying with man as he lies with women. Many claim it means that a man is not to treat another man as subservient while they lie together, as at the time that was a woman's rule." He shrugged. "We as people have changed much over the years und we must learn what the scripture truly means. No one but God fully understands the rules set for us. But as I said, it is only up to Him to judge. So what you're gay, Scott? Does it change who you are as a person? No. It doesn't." Kurt felt it was appropriate to place his hand on Scott's back now, after saying what he had. "You are still mein freund ."

"But what if I want more?" Scott whispered, hardly detectable by Kurt's ears.

"Huh?"

Scott swallowed, looked up at Kurt and repeated himself. "But what if I want more? What if I want to be more than just your friend? Kurt, I like you. I know you didn't learn the difference betweening liking someone and liking someone when you learnt English, but it should be obvious by now what I mean." Feeling the warmth of Kurt's hand on his back felt good, but was it wrong? "The day in your bedroom, I kissed you. I kissed you Kurt and if you let me, I'd do it again and again and again. But you're not gay. You don't like me in that sense. You're Catholic and you follow the Bible to the best of your abilities and who am I to ask you to ignore a rule just so I can fulfill selfish desires?" He shook his head, standing so that Kurt's hand fell off his back.

"You kissed me back and maybe that was just reflex but, God, Kurt, I want it to be more. I want it to be so much more than that, so badly. I know you won't lie, but you'll evade. So I'm begging you to answer this question so I can get on with my life. Do you like me in the same way? Because if not, I'll leave you alone, I'll let it drop. This whole conversation never existed, the kiss in the bedroom never existed. Please."

Kurt sat there, staring at the dark space between his feet, his tail lashing back and forth behind him from nerves. He had kissed back that day, that much was true. He had only told Scott to leave because he had been confused as to what just happened. It hadn't been out of scorn and it hadn't been out of malice. So, what did he feel for the other boy? Friendship, surely. But was there more? Could he ignore those rules of the Bible that he had held so important for so long of his life? Was he gay?

"I… I don't know Scott. Ich weiß es nicht ."

Scott fell silent, his face forward towards the tree line where the sun would be coming up in less than three hours. "Take me back into the Institute, Kurt. I want to go to bed."

Kurt felt a pang in his chest, but gently grabbed Scott's hand and bamf ed them inside once more. Scott wrenched his hand from Kurt's and hurried down the hallway to his room, leaving Kurt sulking in the shadows. The sudden departure had hurt Kurt in ways he was foreign to. He was sick of being foreign. He turned on his heel and teleported to his room, ready to retire for the rest of the night.


	4. Love, For You Have Been Loved

**There is self-harm in this chapter.**

Running, running. He was running and teleporting but everywhere he went there were angry faces with fire and pitchforks. Damnation was at every corner and corridor and suddenly he was surrounded. He spun around in circles, trying to find a spot that was clear, trying to find a friendly face. "Monster!" "Demon!" "Devil!" "Be gone!" "Return to Hell!"

He threw his hands into his hair, collapsing in on himself and crying out. He begged them to leave him alone, to not hurt him. He felt a whip hit his skin and cried out. The ringleader was there, his whip in hand. "In the box!" He screamed, whipping Kurt again and again until the- suddenly- twelve year-old scurried into the box. The door shut and he heard electricity and there was nothing but darkness but in his hand was a jagged piece of glass.

In the darkness he could see the symbols and he was only eight again. He brought the glass up and it glinted in the light of his eyes. He saw his reflection and began to cut. He carved and curved. Blood ran down his face, down his chest, his arms his legs. His tail was quivering and he woke up to a dark room with no windows and one single light above the door. He was shackled but surrounded by scientists. Kurt was thirteen again. He tried to teleport but found himself suddenly drained of energy. His head dropped and he looked at the floor.

'Please, God. Save me.'

Blood. There was blood on his hands and his vision cleared. He looked around and found himself outside the room he had been trapped in for so long. He was guard was dead, and Kurt realised he had done it. His heart fell through the floor and he teleported away.

Right into a street sign. Luckily it was only his foot but the pain of having his foot go through the street sign was enough to make him scream and he bit down on his fist and looked around. It was late, but a window curtain was moved aside. He blinked away the tears and pulled his hood closer around him, his tail wrapping tightly around his torso. When the person in the window finally looked away, he teleported a few yards down, this time sitting down to look at his foot. It was bleeding but slowly healing now that the missing part of his body had a place to go. He cried and curled into an alleyway, uncaring of the blood that trailed after him.

The morning came and a young woman was shaking him. "Are you alright?" She asked, and Kurt's body stiffened. Somehow, she had not seen his skin or his face. He curled up tighter, hiding himself better in the cloak. "There's blood leading to you, are you alright?" She asked again.

Kurt squeaked out a yes, even though the pain in his foot was immense.

Time had passed, but how much, Kurt did not know. He had lost more weight than he thought possible, his foot throbbed even when he wasn't on it. He swam in the cloak and teleporting left him so tired that he could sometimes collapse wherever it was he went. He was sitting against the wall of a bakery, watching the feet of people pass him. His hair was long and hung out from under his hood. He felt tired and exhausted and his stomach growled. There was a small can next to him to people would occasionally drop a coin or two into.

Communities had been warned to watch out for a murderous demon, blue skin and yellow eyes, teeth sharp enough to rip out throats. The fliers made had been stapled to posts and taped to insides of windows. There was one right behind him in the window of the bakery. A young child dropped a coin into his can. "Danke," he would say to everyone.

Night came, Kurt prayed. He was on his knees and mumbling to himself, saying his prayers. In his hands was a Bible. Something he had made sure he never lost, despite everything that had happened and how fast it had all happened. On the blank first page was a handwritten message.

" To my brothers, Stefan and Kurt. There are many hardships in life and there are many people who will look at you like you are freaks. Do not believe them. I have never met two people so good and heart and so selfless.

Kurt, you are different and that is something you will deal with for the rest of your life. Do not let others put you down and do not let others walk all over you. But keep a kind heart and a pure soul. Love others, even when they hate you. Love because you have been loved. Love because you have been hated. Love because that is the best way to make those who hate you suffer the most because you can love even in the face of adversity and bigotry and that makes you so much more powerful than they can ever hope to be.

Whether you read this book and receive true blessings and messages from it, or just find it a way to pass the time, whether you believe the words or find them nothing but fiction, know that you are loved. By me and by God.

Love, Jemaine

Stefan… ."

His brother was standing in a room filled with blood, with dead bodies. He was looking at his hands with wide eyes and Kurt couldn't tell what had filled them. "I did this," he breathed before smiling.

Kurt remembered his promise. And so he killed him. He was fifteen.

With a heavy heart, he held the dead body of his brother in his arms, even though they weren't true brothers, he held him. He cried, sobbing, wailing. A group of people screamed outside, of murder of death of demons. People rushed in and blamed Kurt for all of the murders and he ran. He ran and ran and ran but he was surrounded and no matter where he went there were people and he was failing to run and he was failing to teleport and he turned a street corner and all sound stopped and the people behind him stopped running and there was but one man at the end of the alley.

And that was the day Kurt gave God a face.

Kurt found it hard the believe he had fallen asleep and would not have believed it if he wasn't waking up to his alarm. He groaned, rolled over and smacked it. He frowned at his three fingers and blue, fuzzy skin. He didn't want to go to school today and maybe the Professor would understand. His stomach hurt and his head felt funny and he hadn't slept well. Despite the few hours of rest he had received, those dreams poisoned his rest.

If only he had always looked the way his image inducer made him look, then those dreams wouldn't exist. He put it on and got up, sending a small prayer of help to God. "Let him understand," he pleaded as he turned on the inducer and teleported outside of the Professor's office.

"Professor?" He called in. In his mind, he got his answer. He was to wait a few minutes because he was busy with someone else. Ten minutes passed and Scott walked out of the office, looking pale and tired and stressed. Kurt felt guilt but then felt anger at that guilt. Scott had pushed him away last night so any stress on Scott had been all Scott's fault. He walked in, looked at the Professor and began to cry.

He told him about the dreams, but not about the events with Scott. He didn't know if Scott had told the Professor and despite his anger towards the other, it wasn't his place to tell the Professor secret things about the other. The Professor looked troubled and Kurt thought that perhaps he'd be given the day from school. "No, perhaps it is best if you keep your mind occupied. Staying home instead of going to school and sulking about the dreams will do you no good. Go eat breakfast and get ready for the day. And if it turns out that the day was bad, well tomorrow is always a new day."

Kurt nodded and teleported back to his room to get properly dressed and ready for the day. He was so angry. First Scott made him feel alienated more than ever, then the Professor refused to let Kurt have the day off. There was a small part of him that was angry at himself for not understanding American ways and for not understanding himself and the emotions he felt when Scott had kissed him and when Scott had talked to him. He wasn't used to this.

It was all foreign and Kurt had a dreaded thought that he might be foreign forever. Everyday, there was something new that he didn't understand. Something new he had to accept as normal. The language, the food, the people. Kindness and acceptance. The religious bigotry in the world that made his religion seem like it was a horrible thing and he was just supposed to sit back and defend it instead of making it known that those people weren't truly God's messengers. He was sick of not understanding math and not understanding English and why did he have to know History? It already happened, other people know it, people that enjoy knowing it. He had been given the easiest classes that could be offered to him, he had been given a tutor. He took classes in the summers and when he first got here, he had taken them on the weekend.

He didn't understand the obsession with supermalls and amusement parks. Some television shows were so ludicrous and he didn't know why people liked them.

He understood a lot of things, but it seemed like he understood nothing some days. Now, he didn't understand Scott's feelings and he didn't understand his own. He didn't understand how he could feel like that but stay true to God and he didn't understand how and who to ask for help.

He didn't understand why he had been born a mutant and why he had to look the way he did and why people never took the time to know him before judging him.

He was sick of not understanding and feeling foreign to everything and he wanted one day off.

Even now, as he waited outside a bathroom with his clothing in his hand, he felt like what he was doing was foreign. He grew up getting sprayed down by a cold hose then air drying. He thought it was normal, despite the fact that he knew nothing about him was normal. Everyone in the circus had bathed that way; sometimes they had soap, sometimes they did not.

He hadn't known what a shower was until Scott had to come and explain it to him after telling the German that he was grabbing one.

"What is a shower and how do you grab one?" He had asked and the laugh that followed made Kurt feel so… inadequate.

Now, the memory surfaced as Scott came out of the bathroom, surprise lighting his face when he saw Kurt standing there. He had his dirty clothes in one hand and a towel around his shoulders to catch the drips from his wet hair. His cheeks quickly turned red and he hurried away, leaving Kurt standing there, feeling like the wind was just knocked out of him.

Kurt stormed into the bathroom, locking it behind him and muttering in German. He hated being so foreign to everything. To television, to books that weren't the Bible. Everyone swore so freely and the clothing style had been so weird. He wasn't used to fridges or microwaves, three square meals a day. He wasn't used to kindness or sympathy or people understanding him and what he was going through.

He hit the wall, growling, surprised by his own outburst and the sudden screech of surprise from whoever was on the other side of the wall. He frowned, yellow eyes filling with tears and streaking down his furry cheeks. He turned the image inducer on, hoping to find even a small comfort in the person before him. The white skin, furless and scarless, his ears not pointed, his mouth without fangs. His eyes weren't yellow. He had ten fingers and ten toes and his tail no longer existed.

Kurt felt even more sick. He ran his hand over his skin, disgusted that he could still feel the fur, still feel the scars. And suddenly, he didn't want this to be his body any longer. He felt it wasn't right for him to look so normal when he was anything but. He reached under the sink cabinet, pulled out a razor and began to work one of the blades out from it. When it was finally free and his fingertips were torn and shredded from the effort, he held it up to the light, studying it. It had been a long time since he carved the Angelic symbols into his skin, but now, he'd be doing it on something that didn't resemble himself at all. Naked and exposed, he began to draw the curved decorations on the skin of this imposter. Fresh blood began to run down his navel, down his groin and legs. He shivered but continued, biting his lip, invisible fangs causing it to split open. He carved until he knew that the cuts would scar, even on this body. He threw the razor into the bottom of the garbage along with the bloodied tissue paper and hopped into the shower. His image inducer, unfortunately not waterproof, sat on the side of the sink as he showered.

A few minutes after his bleeding had finally stopped and the shower had run cold, there was a knock on the door. "Hey!" Came Spyke's voice. "Whoever's in there needs to hurry it up. Professor X says we're all gonna be late if we don't leave in ten minutes!"

Kurt hopped out and dried off. The day would be long.


	5. Two-Sided Coin

Kurt did not sit with them at lunch and Scott felt like he was to blame for it. He saw the other X-men, sitting alone under a tree. There was a disturbing look of emptiness in Kurt's eyes and Scott was worried about him. "I'm sure that whatever is bothering him will work itself out, Scott," Jean muttered to him, low enough that the table of loud mutants didn't hear her but loud enough that Scott did. He frowned.

"I'd appreciate it if you stayed out of my head, Jean."

"I try, but when your thoughts are screaming right next to me, it's a bit hard to stop myself. It's like when you accidently catch yourself eavesdropping even though you hadn't tried to hear the conversation." She continued to eat her lunch, green eyes sliding over to look at Kurt as well.

Scott frowned deeper. "I'm worried about him, you know? He's been pretty down for a while now and I can't but feel that it's my fault."

Jean laughed a little. "Why would you say that? It's not like you did anything to upset him." She paused, falling silent and looking at him, green eyes quizzical. "Did you?"

Scott could suddenly feel her presence inside of his head and slammed up a wall to keep her out of his thoughts. "Hey!" He defended. His outburst caught the attention of the rest of the table and they fell silent. He looked around, going red in the cheeks. He noticed that his outburst had also caught Kurt's attention, and the younger teenager was looking over at the table longingly. Scott's cheeks went red even more and he stood, grabbing his tray. "I'm heading back in. I'm not hungry anymore." He hurried across the yard and back into the school, swearing to himself. He had his head leaning against a cool wall, eyes shut behind his glasses. He was so confused, and he was sick of it. A hand landed on his shoulder.

"Scott, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried like that. Talk to me."

"What's there to say? I pissed Kurt off or hurt his feelings or something. Regardless, it's my fault. I did it and now he won't even come near me."

"Tell me what happened."

Scott was silent before looking around the hallways. "Can we go to the library and talk about this? I don't need someone to hear us." She nodded her head and they made their way to the library and to a corner in the back. Scott took a deep breath.

"A few nights ago… About a week actually, I… Kurt was really upset about some personal stuff. I let him dump it out on me and I really thought… I read the moment wrong, everything that was happening I thought… I made a mistake, Jean. A really bad mistake. I was holding him and he was crying and he looked up at me and I touched his face and… I kissed him." His voice fell so quiet Jean could have mistaken the last words as a whisper. She frowned.

"And he took it badly, didn't he?"

"Yes and no." Scott breathed. "He kicked me out. We danced around each other for a few days until we both decided to be big boys and talk about it. And… We did. I asked him if he felt the same way I did and when he told me he didn't know. I-" He swallowed. "Maybe if I was just better at my emotions. If I wasn't so goddamn emotionally inept. Jesus! I got upset! I mean, I don't know if I just got rejected or accepted and I just need to know so I can either get over him or pursue him, you know? I'm so messed up. I need to stop pining over him if there's nothing there. But I can't as long as there's even a whisper of a chance. But I got upset because I'm so mad at myself for making things complicated and why couldn't I just have feelings for someone I know I can get with?" He threw his hands up in the air before letting them drop back down. "I guess I… I walked away from him. Sorta. We got back inside the Institute via teleporting and I literally ripped my hand out of his and walked away. He's getting so many mixed signals from me and it's not like how things were when I thought I was falling for you. You could just read my mind and know what was up! Kurt? He's clueless!"

He took a deep shaky breath before looking back up at Jean. "Yeah," she said softly. "You did mess up a bit. Maybe the ripping your hand away from his was a bad idea, Scott."

He scowled. "You think I don't know that? I'm team leader! How am I supposed to lead the whole team when I can't even look at Kurt without feeling like a major douche anymore?"

Jean pursed her lips together and let out a sigh. "This is probably the last thing you want to hear but… Give it time. It'll pass over." Anger flared up in Scott.

"Give it time? That's what everyone tells me for everything. I can't control my powers and the Professor is always telling me to 'give it time', I don't feel like a good team leader, Ororo says 'give it time'. Now this? Give it time. I'm sick of giving things time, Jean. What if I never gain control over my powers? What if I'm never a good team leader? What if this doesn't blow over and Kurt thinks I hate him for the rest of our lives?"

"Well, then, that's the reality you'll have to face. But maybe if you weren't so pessimistic about outcomes, things would seem much brighter. I don't know how to help you Scott. All I can offer you is to either let it pass, or talk to him."

"I already did and I fucked things up worse!"

Jean just gave Scott a weird look. "Then deal with those consequences and wait for things to blow over." The bell rang. "I've got to get to class and so do you." She turned on her heals and exited the library, leaving Scott in the back corner, his mind in turmoil. He got up, swearing and headed to his next class.

After school, there was Danger Room practice. Scott had wished for anything but. They were all suited up and had been divided into teams. They were practicing fighting one and another and occasionally the teams were divided unevenly so that the students were forced to work harder. At one point, a sharp scream- of real pain- cut through the air and everyone stopped. Warren dropped Kurt whose eyes were wide and terrified looking, who had been struggling in his grip, and whose sharp fangs were stained with blood.

Warren held his wrist close to his body, pain and surprise on his face. Dark red blood oozed out from between his fingers. "He bit me!" He accused. Kurt's eyes came back to life, filling with tears and horror and he teleported out of the Danger Room in a panic. Most of the people rushed over to Warren, Scott included. Jean stopped him, frowning.

"Go look for Kurt; make sure he's okay. He looked… off." She turned before Scott could object, rushing over to Warren as well.

Scott, hesitant, ran out of the Danger Room, looking for Kurt. Time passed and he couldn't find him. Until he remembered a spot where Kurt most likely went. He took a deep breath and ran out to a balcony, looking for the best way to get up onto the roof. He climbed, grateful for the gloves he had on. He knew some of his nails would be missing if he hadn't been wearing them. He got to the top, breathless and arms feeling like noodles. He saw Kurt there, curled up and staring off to the woods behind the manor. He quietly approached him and sat down. "Hey."

Kurt jumped and flinched away. " Es tut mir Leid !" He cried out. "I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to! I-I" Tears were spilling over his eyes and running down already damp fur. "It was an accident. I panicked. I felt so confined und closed in und I asked him to let go of me but I don't think he understood what was wrong und… I didn't want to hurt Engel . Never wanted to hurt him. He's mein freund und I bit him und I'm s-sorry. Please don't be mad…" He swallowed and looked up, eyes darkening further when he saw Scott and the tears fell faster and thicker and his lower lip trembled worse than it already had been.

Before he could move to teleport away, Scott grabbed Kurt's knee. This ended up with both of them landing awkwardly on Kurt's bedroom floor. "Leave me alone!" He cried out, trying to scramble from Scott's hand. But Scott tightened his grip, possibly leaving bruises in Kurt's knee who made a small sound of pain. "Let me go! Lass los !"

"No!"

" Ja !"

Scott, who was physically stronger, pulled Kurt into his arms, careful to keep the other's mouth away from his body so that he didn't end up like Warren. "Kurt! Kurt please!"

"Let me go let me go lass los lass los lass los !" He took a deep, uneven breath. It was shallow. "Bitte, ich kann nicht atmen . Scott! I CAN'T BREATHE!" He was shaking and breathing funny, his eyes wide and unseeing. Scott let go of him, throwing his hands up.

"Kurt, please," his voice had gone soft. "Please. Just talk to me."

Kurt was crying, sobbing and holding himself, curled up. Suddenly, he looked so much younger to Scott than he really was. His sobs were great, making his whole body shake and tremble with the exertion of trying to breath. He kept coughing and it seemed like he was going to throw up. But Scott kept his distance, not wanting to make it even worse. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Kurt's sobs became silent and his rocking slowed and his eyes cleared and he could unravel himself. He still shook but he didn't seem like he was going to bolt at the slightest sound. "Kurt," Scott said, voice low and desperate. "Please talk to me. Tell me what happened. I promise I won't touch you or go near you if you don't want me to."

Kurt nodded, swallowing hard. When he spoke, he was hard to understand, voice thick, accent deep, and words shaking. " Engel didn't… he didn't do anything wrong. So please don't be mad him." He shook his head, putting it on his knees which he pulled up to his chest. "He grabbed me to subdue me und… I just suddenly felt like I could… couldn't breath. I saw nothing but darkness und I was back in Germany when the ringleader of the circus was selling me to another circus because he didn't want me anymore. They put me in a small dark box und when we showed up at the circus, they decided they didn't want me either und they sold me to group who wanted… to do bad things. Und I was kept in that box for so long und it was so small und I couldn't breathe. It's not Engel's fault I freaked out. He… He didn't know. I'm sorry. Is he okay? Don't be mad at him, it was all my fault. I didn't mean to bite him. Oh, I bit him. Is it bad?" He started crying again. "I'm so sorry! Please! Make sure he's okay and he doesn't get in trouble! This is all my fault!"

Scott felt like his heart was breaking into hundreds of pieces. Here Kurt was, talking about a traumatic experience and blaming the whole situation on himself. When it wasn't either of their faults, Kurt was carrying all of it and damning himself. "Hey, Kurt. Look at me."

Kurt shook his head and continued to cry into his knees. "Warren is fine. It wasn't a bad bite at all. He didn't know that would trigger you and I doubt you really knew either. We haven't done any training where you would happen to get grabbed like that. Don't blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong. And I'm sure that once we explain things to the Professor, he'll understand as well, alright?"

Kurt shook his head again. "This is all my fault, Scott. I'm a monster. I attacked a friend. I could have and probably would have hurt you, too! I need to be stopped before I do something worse! Ich bin ein Monster…"

Anger flared in Scott, but not so much toward Kurt as much as towards whoever would do something to make Kurt believe such things. "You are not! You're not a monster! You are- Kurt!" Scott let out an exasperated sound. "You are an amazing person. You are selfless and caring and kind. You put others first, always! You do your best to make sure that people are comfortable at your own expense! Here you are, triggered by a horrible experience, and you're making sure that Warren doesn't get in trouble . You are the least monstrous person I know, Kurt! Th-The… The Pope would be blessed to meet you! God should be making sure that Heaven is as ready as ever and comfortable for when you get there. They should play trumpets as you enter the gates and there should be a spot next to God waiting for you because, Kurt. You are a goddamn angel ."

Before Kurt could interject, Scott continued. "You've been through so much pain and agony and horrible, horrible things. The least any of us could do is literally lay down for you to walk all over us. We aren't worth your time, your grace, your pureness. Literally, you should be allowed to do whatever you fucking want because you are literally the best person on this planet. So what you look a little funny? Don't we all? Have you seen some of the people at school? Everyone has something weird about their looks! But looks don't deem someone's personality? You've never gone out of your way to hurt someone, have you? You never woke up and said 'today, I'm going to stab someone in the chest!'" He scoffed and shook his head. "Like you said to me, no one has a place in this world to judge others. No one here is going to ever hate you. 'Cept maybe Logan, but he hates everyone. So start cutting yourself a break, man. You're important to us. To the Professor, to Ororo, to Jean, Kitty, Rouge, Spyke, to… to me…"

Kurt looked at Scott with wide eyes and his mouth parted as if to say something to everything Scott had just said to him. But then he bamf ed away and left Scott sitting in the dimness of Kurt's room.

Scott cursed and walked out into the hallway. Jean was walking down that way. A woman on a mission. "Scott, did you find him? Is he okay?"

"He's… I talked to him. He's pretty upset but… I fucked up again, I think? He was fine, he was sitting there letting me talk to him and he kinda talked back but then suddenly he looked like a goddamn deer in headlights and bamfed away." He shook his head. "I don't know where. He might be on the roof, which is where I originally found him. I almost lost him, but I got a hold of his knee and dammit!" Scott hit himself in the leg in frustration. "I'm really failing at this stupid team leader thing." He sighed. "Is Warren okay?"

Jean nodded. "It wasn't very deep and we're all pretty sure Kurt doesn't have rabies." She laughed slightly before clearing her throat awkwardly. "Hank wrapped it up after cleaning it out. He'll be fine in no time." She looked around. "So Kurt disappeared after you guys talked? What did he say?"

"He's blaming himself. Wanted to make sure Warren didn't get in trouble. Kept saying that Warren isn't at fault and that he was. But then he told me what he felt like, what had happened and, Jean… no one's at fault but the people who've hurt Kurt in the past. And he doesn't believe me when I say it so he needs others to say it. But… I don't feel like it's my place to blurt out what Kurt told me to everyone." He shook his head as they walked down the hallway. "I mean, I'm going to tell the Professor, I have to for Kurt and Warren's sake." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I feel so bad for Kurt; he's had it pretty hard and it just seems to follow him around like a dark cloud. He thinks he's this horrible person but…"

"He's so nice," Jean whispered. "He's such a sweetie and when he's not so out of it, he's such a jokester. He's always making us laugh and he's so selfless and… how could he even think he's a monster?"

"Try asking him yourself, because it's starting to really bring me down when I try to tell him how good he is and he just tells me how horrible he is. I feel like such a fucking failure. I can't even keep my teammates from hating themselves. Where's all that morale I'm supposed to be spreading, Jean? I suck at this. I shouldn't be team leader. It should be you. It doesn't matter that I was here first; I'm not cut out for it. You're so good at taking care of people and all I do is make matters worse."

"Now, that's just not true, Scott!"

"But it is! Kurt was having a down time, I tell him to talk to me, I literally made things worse! Remember when Rouge was having trouble with hand-to-hand combat and I tried to help her out? I literally just made it harder for her to understand and you had to sit down and explain it to her. I couldn't even get Spyke to look at me after I accidentally insulted him. He's still holding that grudge. You're better cut out to lead than I am. I'm just a fuck up. I always have been and always will be. Hell, I couldn't even save my brother or parents." He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

Jean frowned, watching him carefully. They stopped in front of the Professor's office, the doors ajar to show Charles and Ororo sitting in there, talking. "Come in," he called.


	6. Eine Chance auf Erlösung

**This chapter is very short but focuses all on Kurt hurting himself in hopes of repenting. If you're easily unsettled by self-harm, I'll let you know now that this chapter is not vital to the rest of the story.**

Kurt had teleported into a bathroom, luckily for him, it was one currently unoccupied. He flicked the light on and locked the door. He noticed the trash hadn't been changed since that morning and felt a sick joy at it. He dug to the bottom until he found the razor he had used earlier that morning, still crusted in his blood. He ran it under hot water and cleaning it off with rubbing alcohol until he was comfortable that it was clean.

He closed his eyes and imagined the symbols, with their perfect curves and intricate designs.

And he began to cut.

His face, his arms, his legs, and his torso all became drenched in blood, the fur matting and clumping together, turning him darker than he already was. His tail quivered in pain and he was sure he would have a fat lip tomorrow from how hard he was biting it. Surprisingly not enough to bite through it. His skin was festering and open, the air stinging the wounds as he carved deep into his skin. Even with his shadow aura and the ability to heal faster than most, these scars would never go away. Luckily for him, no one had ever asked, and he would never tell. The Angel's Symbols were sacred to him; his one chance at redemption and acceptance into Heaven. Scott could tell him again and again how good of a person he was, but that didn't make up for the fact that he was a demon. He was damned to Hell unless he could convince God to forgive him of his trespasses.

He cleaned up the blood and took a cold shower, enough to make him shake and his teeth shatter. He was unsure of how long he was in the bathroom, but when he emerged later, the Institute was dark and he could make out the soft sounds of sleeping breaths. He teleported to his room, still shivering despite having dried completely. He shut his window and curled up under his blankets, sneezing before falling into a dark, troubled sleep.


	7. Sich übergeben

Kurt was praying in front of God, eyes on the white ground before him. When he looked up, there was no face on his God. Instead, he was a light, both blindingly bright but comfortingly dim. Speak to me, my child .

Kurt sucked in a breath. It had been a long time since his God had spoken to him. And this was the first time he had been addressed as "my child." He swallowed before speaking.

"Almighty God. I come to you in a great time of need and confusion. I thought you had my path written out for me, but as of late, there has been someone intervening and changing what I thought was destined." The light reached out toward Kurt who remained on his knees, hands pressed together as if his life depended on it. I always know what will happen, my child. This comes as a surprise to you?

"He is not one to claim himself as your child. He is not a follower of any religion. But he speaks to me as if... " Kurt swallowed nervously. "As if what I believed to be your plans for me were… wrong." He whispered the last word. His God grew brighter and Kurt had to force himself to keep his eyes open. Scott Summers , his God said to him, from everywhere and nowhere all at once. He speaks to you differently than most have ever spoken to you, no?

Kurt nodded. "Yes, my Lord. He… tells me I am not a demon, not damned to Hell. He says I have no sins to repent for. But, he is wrong. He doesn't know about what happened with my brother. Almighty God, I do not know what to say to him. I don't know how to tell him that he is wrong. I know all Scott wants to do is help me and show me that there is good in me. I know there is good in me, but there isn't enough to repent."

His God did not respond and he frowned. "Please, Lord, guide me." Still no response. Kurt's tail flicked in agitation. "Why do you not answer me, my Lord?"

Because there is nothing I wish to tell you. This is something you must figure out yourself, my child.

"Can you not even give me a hint? Please, my Lord! I am so lost and I'm scared and I'm hurting."

As I saw from tonight's events. My word of advice to you, my child, is to not worry so much.

"But how can I not worry when I have no idea what to do? Please! Almighty God I am begging you for words of guidance. I don't know what to do ." He stressed the last words so intensely that it came out a plea. "Scott has told me that he holds affection for me and I don't know how to respond!" His God gave no reply. "Please, Lord! I've read your word many times but I do not know what that part of the scripture means! If I give myself to him, will I condemn myself further? Or will it make no difference." Still, his God remained silent. "Lord, please ."

He stood, desperate. "Please, my Lord! Why is that when I need you most, you fail me? Why is when I need answers the most, I receive none? I'm simply asking if I will be condemning myself to Hell if I allow myself to be with Scott! All I ask is what I should do!"

I cannot give you that answer, my child. Now, awaken. For it is time for a great decision to be made.

Kurt opened his eyes to darkness, anger coiling in his gut. He wanted to curse his God for ending the conversation, but he knew that would get him nowhere but further from redemption. Suddenly, the anger in his gut stirred more and because an unbearable pain. He stood and teleported to the nearest bathroom. He had barely made it to his knees when vomit forced its way out of his body. When he finally was able to stop heaving, he laid his cheek on the cool porcelain of the toilet, breathing heavily. He knew that someone would be awake and hear him if he called loud enough, but his throat hurt too badly. He didn't want to wake Jean or the Professor, but he needed someone to help him and he knew Jean would be the quickest to respond.

Suddenly, however, he remembered what he had done earlier in the night. He used his tail to reach for the light switch, grateful that the bathroom he was in was small enough for him to do so. He looked at his arm and frowned. He most certainly could not have someone else come into this bathroom and see the scratches all over him. He'd have to wait until morning to ask someone for help.

His stomach lurched again and he was throwing up once more, the bitterness of the vomit and bile stung his throat and nose, bringing tears to his eyes. His stomach continued to convulse and try to push something up, but after a while, there was absolutely nothing for him to expel. He flushed the toilet and laid down on the cool tile, feeling a little bit better but not enough to dare leave the bathroom. Shortly, he fell asleep, curled up around the toilet and thinking about his conversation with God.


	8. Fühlen Menschen

Scott was beginning to think that, if God was truly real, he was trying very hard to test Scott. He opened the bathroom door- after knocking- only find Kurt curled up around the toilet, his face troubled. He couldn't just leave him there, so he bent down, gently shaking Kurt awake.

The elf blinked slowly, eyes hazed with fever. "Scott Wo bin ich ?" He lifted his head a little bit before groaning and letting it lay back down on the tile.

Scott sighed and lifted Kurt up. "Let's get you back to your room, alright?" Kurt just nodded his head, curling up more and nuzzling into Scott's chest. The older teen turned red as he walked. He knew that if Kurt wasn't sick, he wouldn't be behaving in this way and it almost hurt to think that… Okay, it did hurt to think that. He sighed as he struggled to open Kurt's door, finally getting it and stepping into the room. It was horribly stuffy, but opening the window was not an option. "Hey, Kurt, did you throw up at all? I'm gonna go tell the Professor you're sick."

Kurt nodded his head. " Viel . I threw up a lot. I thought I was going to die, Scott. I was so sick." His eyes were only half open and his words were only half coherent. "I spoke to God," he breathed, words stringing together and eyes falling back shut. Scott put a hand to his forehead and frowned at how warm he was. "He wouldn't help me and I got frustrated but then he made me wake up and I was sick. He told me a big decision would be made today. How I can I make one when I'm so sick?"

Scott hummed thoughtfully, trying to understand what Kurt was saying. "What wouldn't he help you with?"

Kurt shook his head. "I can't tell you," he whispered, bringing his hand to his face and placing a finger over his mouth, shushing Scott. "It's a secret and Scott can't know."

Scott smiled some, finding Kurt's sick behaviour endearing. "I promise I won't tell Scott." That wasn't a lie. He wasn't going to tell himself anything. Kurt was.

Kurt shook his head. "I don't know. I shouldn't talk about it."

"Maybe I can help."

There was a long pause and Scott thought that maybe Kurt had fallen asleep and was about to get up when the German spoke. "Scott kissed me." His heart began to hammer and he turned back to Kurt. "And I kissed him back but I didn't understand what was happening. I liked the kiss, a lot. But I don't know how to tell Scott that I liked it. Everytime we talk, something goes wrong and one of us storms away…" Tears fell out from under his eyelids and he curled up. "I've grown up being told I was a monster and a demon and that I was going to Hell. I've tried and I've tried to repent but there are still so many people that say it or think it. No matter how hard I try, I know I can never repent."

Scott wanted to interject, but he feared it would alert Kurt to Scott's presence. He just let out a breath. "And then there's Scott. He keeps telling me that I'm not damned and that I'm not a monster. And I want to believe him and there are things I want to tell him and…" He fell silent, eyes half open but unseeing and his words had slurred so badly that Scott felt like he was talking to a toddler.

"And I think I love him, but I've hurt him so many times and rejected him and I don't know what to do. And God won't help me and I don't want to go to hell because of this but I just… Scott makes me feel human and I think I'm in love with him."

Scott swallowed hard, heart hammering and making its way up his chest and into his throat. "I won't tell him," he said, voice hoarse and thick and he wanted to hold Kurt's hand but he couldn't move. Kurt made an odd sound, his body twitching. Before Scott could move, the younger of the two was throwing up on the floor, his body heaving. The smell permeated the air and made Scott nauseous. He stood slowly, holding his hand over his nose and mouth.

"I'm going to go find the Professor, alright? And get someone to bring you water and a bucket. You'll be okay, Kurt. You'll be okay."


	9. Bittersweet

Scott was leaning against the doorway as Ororo checked Kurt's temperature and helped clean up the vomit from the floor. Kurt was holding a bucket now, a delirious, fanged grin on his face. Ororo had given him some medicine to help him sleep. And it was obviously starting to work. " Ich habe nie Medizin zurück in Deutschland ," He slurred, unable to be understood by either of them well. Scott knew that Ororo had begun to study German so that she could talk to Kurt more comfortably in his own tongue. And Scott was able to place certain words together. He knew Ich was usually I and habe was had. Medizin sounded like Medicine and Deutschland was Germany. Probably something referencing his past had been said and even though he didn't quite know what he said, his heart hurt.

" Ich dachte, dass, wenn ich zum ersten Mal Kopfschmerzen Medizin versucht, dass es war unglaublich. Aber das ... Das ist erstaunlich. " He continued to ramble on in German until his voice became nothing but heavy breaths and he was asleep. Kurt looked so small on the bed, curled up with blankets pulled to his chin. His cheeks were damp with tears that hadn't fully dried since the last time he had thrown up.

Ororo turned to Scott and gave him a soft smile. "Go clean yourself up and get ready for school. I'll drive you in after I've finished talking to the Professor." She placed a hand on Scott's shoulder, looking past his glasses with her icy eyes. "He'll be okay, Scott. Thank you for coming to find me; I'll make sure he's properly looked after today." She walked out of the room and Scott looked back over to the small ball of blankets and fur. He made Kurt feel human.

But why did he feel so sad?

School was over and done with before Scott even knew how to start processing what Kurt had told him. How did he approach Kurt with the knowledge before him? He didn't want to pressure him into anything or make him feel like he had to give him something because he made him feel human. Despite being told exactly wanted he wanted to hear- that Kurt returned his feelings- nothing felt better. Only worse. He sighed as Jean pulled into the mansion's garage, eyeing him funny. But he didn't feel her presence in his mind and for that he was thankful.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No… It's not my place."

"Alright," she cut the engine and proceeded to get out, and Scott knew she wanted to pry but she was still trying to make up for invading his thoughts the other day.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk," he breathed, shrugging his backpack up onto his shoulder and making his way into the main building. "Maybe that'll clear my head." Jean smiled and took his backpack, making it float a few paces behind her. His smile in return felt forced and wrong on his face.

Scott made his way down the dirt path behind the mansion, walking into the woods until he found a small clearing in the trees where some lush grass was growing, dotted with wildflowers. He sat down and stared at his hands for a few moments, thoughts wandering. "Do I tell him he told me? Or will it set him off? Will he feel like I took advantage of him and pried the information out of him? Will he remember telling me when he's more lucid?" He pulled at his hair and laid back with a groan. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

He let out a low, almost pained breath. "A lot," he answered. "There is a lot wrong with you, Scott Summers."

 _Alex was splashing him with water, laughing as his older brother squealed for him to stop. The sun was beating down on them as the Summer brothers swam in their pool as their parents sat off to the side, basking in the warmth of the sun. Suddenly, Scott felt a tingle behind his eyes that ran through his skull. He stopped, reaching up to his temples which had begun to itch and burn. He closed his eyes and started screaming as the worst pain he had ever felt shot through his skull, burning at his eyes. There was an incredible pressure that made him want to stop breathing._

 _He felt hands pulling him out of the water as the burning behind his eyes only got worse. It was sharp and hot and felt like it was tearing his head apart. There were voices but he couldn't hear them over his screaming. He was begging for it to stop and suddenly it did._

 _He was breathless but no longer writhing in pain and he could open his eyes and the light of the sun hurt a little bit, but Alex's face was blocking it out soon enough and the worry in his eyes made Scott feel scared._

 _And then it happened again at school. He was in line for lunch, bouncing on his heels and talking to a friend. Suddenly, his breath was gone, and his vision went blurry and he reached out to catch himself but he was falling fallin ng. . . The pain was just as bad as the time in the pool. He was clutching his head and screaming, his eyes were burning behind his lids and he wanted to open them and find help but it just hurt so goddamn bad and he was sure he was pulling out hair from how hard he was pulling on it. And it was taking so much longer this time for it all to stop and he was dying and it was horrible and then it was over._

 _Soon it got to the point where his parents were taking him to hospital after hospital, doctor after doctor, specialist after specialist. All anyone could say was that Scott was experiencing sporadic and serious migraines, but that this medication should help. And when that medication wouldn't work, it was some other medication._

 _Time passed and Scott was often in more pain than not and Alex had stopped talking to him and their parents and Scott had been pulled out of school and there was tension in the house, always._

 _And the Summer parents decided what the family need was a nice, calming vacation. They were flying there, where? Their parents wouldn't say. Scott was feeling well for once and it had been the first time in a long time that he and Alex were actually around each other. Despite the older brother holding himself distant, they were all talking and laughing and watching a movie. Suddenly, the airplane didn't sound right and the pilot was speaking over the intercom, telling them how they were going down and what they were supposed to do and Alex and Scott were being shoved against each other and Scott's head was hurting so he closed his eyes and tried to listen to his parents past the ringing in his ears but he couldn't understand them. When he opened his eyes, he and Alex were by the emergency exit and his father was prying the door open and his mother was hugging them and crying and kissing their foreheads. "I love you," she yelled over the air as their father pushed them out the door._

 _Alex was wearing the parachute, but he yelled over the rushing air into Scott's ear. "I saw your head was hurting again, so I don't know if you heard Mom. I have the parachute, but if it doesn't work, there's a smaller one on you. It won't work as well and we could get really hurt, but it's better than nothing. So if mine doesn't work, I need you to pull yours!"_

 _Scott nodded his head and took the arm that was wrapped around his chest and held it tighter. He was scared, and he felt the throbbing in his head starting up and he could hear the airplane falling. He turned his body some to look above and behind them, only to see the airplane was much lower than them already. He felt close to crying, but the air dried his eyes too quickly._

 _They free-fell for a while until the ground suddenly seemed close. Alex pulled on his cord and swore and suddenly Scott wasn't there. His head was hurting and he couldn't hear Alex screaming for him to pull his cord and Alex was struggle to grab it. Scott opened his eyes and they were too close to the ground that even if he deployed his parachute, they'd be horribly injured. And suddenly, he was seeing red and the pain in his head was so intense and it was burning his eyes and he felt the ground without touching it and he was thrown back into the air and the weight of Alex was gone and he was falling. He hit his head as he landed and blacked out._

 _When he woke up, the pain was nauseating, his whole body hurt and there was a burning behind his eyelids that was different than the pain he had become accustomed to. He opened his eyes, only to be thrown back by red light. His back slammed against a tree and forced his eyes open more. The light was exploding from him, up into the sky. Scott was screaming._

He screamed as he woke up, eyes snapping open to be greeted by the darkness of the woods. Suddenly, red light erupted into the sky, illuminating everything. He screamed, eyes wide open and throat tasting of copper until he couldn't anymore. He shut his eyes and fell back onto the ground, crying silently but hard. His body shook with quiet sobs. He didn't bother searching for his glasses. He didn't want to move; he didn't want to worry.

There was the sound of someone walking on the grass and then Jean's hand was on Scott's face. "You never showed up for dinner, and I thought you'd want some alone time. I started getting worried because of how late it was getting. The Professor and I could see your optic blasts from the mansion." He felt her slide his glasses into his palm. "Put those on, I'll carry you back to the manor."

Scott slipped the glasses back on and let Jean lift her with her powers. His body hurt like he had actually fallen from the plane again. They got back to the manor and she gently lowered him to his feet. He looked around and didn't see anyone waiting for them and decided to sneak off to his room.

"Scott." The Professor's voice cut through his skull and Scott actually flinched, bringing a hand up to his temple. "Come to my office." Scott trudged to meet him, feeling bone-tired. His eyes hurt and his throat hurt and he just wanted to sleep. He opened the door and frowned when he saw the Professor sitting there, Ororo at his side. Jean slipped in behind him. "What happened? You disappeared and we can't find you. I almost used Cerebro, but suddenly we saw your optic blasts."

"I… I fell asleep, I'm sorry."

"You're lucky there were no Danger Room activities, Scott."

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "There's been a lot on my mind lately and I went for a walk and I guess I fell asleep. My glasses must have fallen off while I was sleeping which is why my optic blasts happened."

The Professor and Ororo made eye contact and Scott's stomach sank. He knew they knew he was hiding part of the truth.

"But you did not close your eyes as soon as you realised that you were sending them out. You're better than that, Scott," Ororo stated. "And besides, Jean told the Professor she could hear you screaming, but when she found you, you were unharmed. Just crying."

Scott's face went hot and he turned to glare at Jean who looked at him with sad, understanding eyes. He frowned. "I'm going to bed." He turned on his heel and walked out, Jean and Ororo protested, reaching out for him. The Professor stopped them. "Let him go."


	10. Progress

Scott was storming down the hall when he passed Kurt's room. He stopped and stared longingly at the door. He just wanted things to be simple, was that too much to ask? He wanted to tell Kurt he loved him and to hear Kurt tell him- when lucid and not drugged up- that he loved him too. He wanted to kiss the other's soft lips and feel that velvety fur beneath his fingertips. There were some more lewd desires but those weren't important. He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but after a while, the heavy wooden door slowly opened.

Kurt stepped out, looking tired and strained, his yellow eyes widening some when he saw Scott just standing there. "Scott?" His voice was shaky and suddenly everything wrong in Scott's life came to the surface and he felt the heat of tears rushing down his cheeks. He took a step back, vision blurring. "Scott?" Kurt's voice had grown soft and he took a tentative step toward him. Scott didn't back away, having nowhere to really go. Kurt's hand took his own, the large thumb rubbing the back of his hand. "Bist du in Ordnung?"

Scott's jaw twitched as he tried to stop himself from crying any further. He didn't have time to wallow in his own pity. He was team leader; there was no time for him to let himself feel these things. And maybe that's why he was feeling all of these emotions so intensely. But there was no time to think about that. Kurt's thumb had left the back of his hand and was on his wrist and there was another hand on his shoulder and he felt the other's tail resting against his leg.

And Kurt was kissing him. It was careful and scared and light- hardly there at all but it was there! Kurt was kissing him and Scott felt his chest expanding and he was light headed and euphoric.

Then Kurt pulled away and darkness was coming back in because he was frowning and averting his eyes. "Was that… wrong of me?" His voice was so scared and quiet and he was starting to pull away from panic but Scott grabbed him and hugged him.

"No," he breathed, eyes squeezed shut and forcing more tears out. "No… It was perfectly okay."

And then Kurt threw up.


	11. Verdamnis

Kurt pushed himself away from Scott, gagging and barely able to turn on the spot before vomit spewed forth from within him. He was quickly forced to his knees, holding onto his stomach and retching onto the floor. He felt Scott's hands, cold and refreshing against his hot, clammy skin, push his hair back. "Woah," he heard, as if dreaming. "Hey, you're alright. It's okay. Don't cry."

His ears were ringing and his vision was spinning and his throat burnt with the nasty after taste of bile. He took a deep breath and felt the floor slip from under him; Scott had picked him up and was carrying him back into his room. Scott went to lay him down but, by sudden desire, Kurt clung to his shirt, a hoarse "no" escaping him. "Don't leave me in here alone. I've been alone all day. All by myself." His voice was sad and with his ear still pressed against Scott's chest, he heard the other's heart skip a beat. Scott laid him down anyways and Kurt suddenly felt like crying. But then the weight of the other was falling onto the bed and Kurt rolled towards him. His eyes were open but he wasn't seeing things clearly; it was more like he was underwater… Deep underwater.

"Will you get sick because of me," he whispered, hoarse and tired.

He felt Scott shift to a more comfortable position. "No, I don't think so. My immune system is pretty good." Kurt felt the other's hand slowly move to his hair, flattening it down and running his fingers through the strands. It felt nice. He let his eyes shut, deciding that his vision sucked and there was no need to strain himself further. Scott continued to pet him but paused. "Is… Is this okay?"

Kurt nodded, pulling himself tighter against Scott, his tail wrapping around one of the other's legs. He could hear Scott's heart hammering. "I'm not mad at you," he breathed. "Myself? Ja , you? No. We should have just talked about things instead of avoiding each other. I'm sorry."

Scott swallowed, hand pausing and hovering. "Do you remember anything from this morning?"

"Everything," Kurt's voice was soft, quiet, hesitant. "It's all true, you know. You do make me feel human and I do think I love you. I've been laying in here all day, in and out of consciousness and every time I was awake, I just wanted to go find you. I wanted to tell you, that it was all true. I remember everything. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner but it's hard for me to understand what I'm feeling and how you treat me and… I'm not used to being treated human, Scott. I'm not used to feeling human. And I don't want to lose those feelings and I don't want to lose you but I'm scared." His voice grew thick and it became harder for him to continue to talking. "I'm scared I'll wake up and it'll all be a dream and that I'll be back in the circus where no one really treats me like I'm human, not even those closest to me."

"God told me that I'd make a big decision today and I asked him how I'd know the right way to go about it but he wouldn't answer me. Scott… he wouldn't answer me." He let out a deep breath. "But I think I know my answer now. I think I understand what I should do."

He heard the other's heart thudding heavily in his chest. "Scott… I want to give it a shot. I want to be with you. I want to try it, because I really do think I love you. And… it's not like I'm getting into Heaven anyways, so if this does condemn me further, what harm will it do?"

His world was spinning again and he pulled himself from Scott's arms and leaned over him, hoping the bucket was there where he needed it. Nothing but thick saliva came out, however, his stomach too empty to push anything out. He could hear Scott gag slightly before covering his mouth and taking a deep breath. After a moment of no convulsions, Scott slipped out from under him. "I'm going to go find someone to clean that up and get you some water and crackers. Just… try to hit the bucket next time."

When Kurt opened his eyes, Scott was gone, but his own turmoil wasn't. He had told Scott the truth, but why did he feel like something worse was about to happen to him? He didn't dwell on the thought for long, because he was grabbing the bucket and his stomach was lurching once again.


	12. Curses

Scott kept running his thumbs over the back of his hands, sitting in the hallway as Ororo and Jean helped clean Kurt up and get him something to fill his stomach. Kurt's markings were worrying Scott. Usually they weren't so… rigid looking. Something was wrong with Kurt and it was more than a stomach bug.

Scott continued to fiddle with his fingers even after Jean came out and sat down next to him, her presence awkwardly trying to fill the space between them. "His markings-" she started, but fell short, seeming to struggle with the same issue that Scott was. "They… They almost look… Scabbed over?"

And finally Scott was able to put a word to the rigidity of his swirls and lines and designs. And suddenly a lot more made sense to him. I've tried to repent… There's… there's more…

Suddenly, Scott felt sick. He groaned, holding his stomach and folding in on himself. He squeezed his eyes tightly and his lips went white from how tightly they were pulled back against his teeth. "No," he breathed, hurt and sad. "Oh, God, no."

"Scott, what's wrong? Are you getting sick, too?" Jean got down on her knees and pressed a hand to his forehead. He opened his eyes and stared at the red floor, tears at the brim of his eyes.

"Kurt," he breathed, struggling to word it correctly. "Oh, God, Kurt, no ." He shook his head, closing his eyes. His glasses fell, and before he could reach for them, Jean was already sliding them back into place.

"Tell me what's wrong with Kurt. Scott, you know something, and I'll pry it out of you if I really have to." Her voice was fierce but her threats were useless. Scott was telling her before she could even finish.

"He's cutting himself. I don't know for sure, but he mentioned something about having to repent and being unable to and that there was more to all of it but he didn't want to tell me and I knew something was weird with his markings but I couldn't put my finger on and he wasn't born with those, Jean! He gave them to himself! Jesus Christ he's cutting himself. All over his body… To try and… repent ."

And Scott lost it. He was so angry at everything. He was angry at the world for being unfair, he was angry at the Professor for pushing him so hard and never giving him a chance to relax, he was angry at Jack Winters and Mr. Sinister and his parents and his brother. And he was mad at himself.

He was mad at himself for being unable to control his powers, being unable to control the situation. He was mad because his parents were dead and his brother was dead and here he was, a living relic to all of his mistakes. And here was Kurt, the most precious person he knew. Someone with a heart far too big for reality and who had suffered more than their fair share. Kurt, with a pure soul only tainted by his own self-hatred. And Scott couldn't help him.

He punched the wall- Jean gasped- and his fist went through the plaster until he hit the wood, sending waves of pain up his hand and arm. He pulled his fist out of the hole and was greeted by a dusty, blood streaked hand. "I'm going to take a shower," he growled. "No one bother me."

Jean tried to call after him but Scott was already halfway down the hallway, other hand up by his face to wipe away the hot angry tears that were beginning to streak down his face.


End file.
